Stolen Goods
by chocolate coffee
Summary: Alice Brandon is at the party of the year when a mysterious stranger turns up.He kidnaps her and takes her on a life-threatening adventure that changes her view of life and people forever, but will Alice get out alive?When the gun is put to her head cont.
1. Chapter 1

**Summary: Alice Brandon is at the party of the year when a mysterious stranger turns up, claiming that he has a message for her. He kidnaps her and takes her on a life-threatening adventure that changes her view of life and people forever, but will Alice get out alive? When the gun is put to her head, who will she choose? Who can she choose, as it is now impossible to tell who's a friend and who's a foe? Who took her in the first place, and who's trying to save her? Who are they up against? How long will this last before things go too far? A story full of unlikely twists and heart-pumping action, but will it have a happy ending? Can it?**

**A/N: Hi people! Welcome back and thanks to all of the people who have come back after my other story, The Pieces of My Life, and to everyone else, I'm glad that you're here!**

**DISCLAIMER FOR THE ENTIRE STORY!!!: I DO NOT OWN ANY OF THE CHARACTERS THAT CAN BE FOUND IN ANY OF STEPHANIE MEYER'S _TWILIGHT_ SAGA!!! NOR DO I OWN ANYTHING THAT I DID NOT MAKE UP MYSELF!!! OR ANY OF THE SONGS!!!**

**Please read, enjoy, and review, as I'm a bit unsure about this story... And if anyone has any good songs to go along with this story, please mention them to me cuz I would like to have a song for each chapter.**

**This chapter's song is No Rain by Blind Melon. It doesn't have much to do with the chapter, but I couldn't find one that did.**

"Hey Alice! Ya wanna dance with me?"

Eric Yorkie's enthusiastic face came into focus. How _he _had gotten invited to this party, I did not know, but I for one would _never_ even think of touching one of his kind-his class.

I did anything a girl like me would; I flipped him off and walked away with a disgusted look on my face.

I worked my way over to where people of _my _sort were dancing.

"Hey, Alice!" Mike Newton's snotty voice was recognized before I could gain focus on his childish face. Though he didn't look like much, Mike was one of the wealthiest kids at our school here in NYC. That was what bought his popularity. The cash. This was his party.

Mike was also my boyfriend.

"Hii Mickkk," I slurred. Then I cursed internally.. I was definitely slightly drunk.

Mike had noticed, too.

"You alright there, pixie?"

I had a certain name for him in my mind when he called me that, but I wouldn't dare say it to his face.

"Yeah, just... just need some water and to sit down for a while."

Mike looked around, over all of the heads that were dancing closely around us, until he spotted someone.

"Yo! Yorkie! Get me some water asap!" he called. Then he lowered his voice and whispered to me, "That's why he's here-he's the water boy." He winked at me and I laughed.

"Here ya go!" Yorkie's voice was once again registered before him.

Mike snatched the water from him and then grabbed my arm, leading me to a sofa.

Some teenagers were already on there in their own little world with one another, but Mike pushed them off.

At first they looked up, about to begin a fistfight with whoever shoved them, but they saw Mike and quickly hurried off.

Mike turned to me and handed me the ice-cold bottle of water.

I gratefully took it and gulped some down.

"So Alice, I was wondering if you'd like to come to a concert with me Friday. I've already got great tickets and all."

I so saw this coming. Literally. The vision came to me this morning while I was choosing what I would wear tonight. Very few people knew I had visions. My parents and sister were some of them, then there was my ex, Tyler, who had seen me space one too many times and had wanted an answer. He had sworn not to tell anyone, but in my world, that could've met that you planned to spill the moment you were away from the person. The visions were extremely random.

And so I had planned the reaction that would, in the end, benefit me the most.

"Oh, Mike! That would be wonderful! Thank you!"

Mike just grinned that childish grin of his.

"Great, so I'll just pick you up around six thirty?"

"That'd be great!"

I didn't say that he had failed to mention whose concert we would be going to, but I didn't press it. I'd probably see something about it in the next week.

We talked for about half an hour; I sipped on water the whole time, and soon enough I felt better. Except I had to use the bathroom.

So when Mike finally left with some other friends of his, I was grateful.

I made my way to the bathroom and saw a mirror in the hallway. Though there was a mirror in the bathroom, I had to stop.

I looked at the perfect reflection that was shown in the mirror.

My long, wavy black hair was still perfectly pulled back. Not a hair out of place.

My bright green eyes were rimmed with the perfect amount of eye make-up.

My lips shimmered from the pink lipgloss.

The only thing I didn't like all too much about myself was that I was short. Only four foot eleven.

However, I was quite proud of my perfect figure that I knew others were jealous of.

I finished in the bathroom and then headed back to where the party was taking place, pausing to check myself in the mirror again.

Once I entered the loud room, I worked my way back through the crowd toward Mike and his buddies.

I was almost there when something odd happened.

The chatter grew softer, though the music continued to pound in my ears, and the quiet came from the side of the room with the entrance.

By instinct, I turned to see what had caused the slow of conversation.

He was very tall and he looked to be about eighteen or nineteen. His hairy was a tousled golden. His eyes were cold and grey; they held an almost sinister look deep within them. His clothes were dark colors.

His very presense held something about him, something that... intimidated everyone, me included.

I took him in in a matter of seconds before turning back around. By then the noise had returned to its normal level.

I had very nearly reached the group that Mike was included in, but I felt a tap on my shoulder.

I felt a flare of irritation being lit within me.

"_What is it, Yorkie?!" _I hissed through me teeth, turning on the spot.

When I saw who it was, I froze. I could feel my own eyes widen a bit.

"S-sorry," I stuttered. It was the guy from before. I didn't know whether to call him a boy or a man, but something about him steered me more toward 'man.'

He didn't press the matter. He remained indifferent.

"I was told by someone over there that you are Mary Alice Brandon," he said without emotion.

Normally I would correct him and say, "Oh, no, just Alice," but I didn't. Instead I just nodded and gave a "Mmhmm."

"Could I speak with you alone for a moment?" he asked.

I hesitated.

"Why?"

"I have a message to pass on to you. From someone who claimed to be your relative. I'm not sure if you want it to be overheard or not, but you probably don't."

So I nodded, and he motioned with his head toward the hall that led to the stairway.

I followed him into the hall and was surprised to see that he continued up the stairs. I kept going after him, wondering who he was. His hair color was like Mike's, and I could vaguely remember Mike mentioning an older brother. This must be him. It would explain going upstairs without permission.

Once we were upstairs, he veered into one of the rooms after checking to make sure no one was in there.

I walked to the doorway but stopped there.

This room must be his; it looked as though it belonged to a teenage boy. Smelled like it, too.

I wrinkled my nose in disgust.

Should I go in after him? I thought of all the ways that this could be unsafe. I was still slightly under the affects of the alcohol that I had consumed earlier, even if it was mostly gone.

He just waited, seeming to detect my hesitence.

"Or we could talk in the hallway," he said, once again, without emotion.

Without waiting for an answer, he rather roughly strode past me, making me back into the doorframe and fall onto the carpet.

I felt a flicker of irritation again as I rolled onto my back to get up.

Before I could stand, though, his hand was outstretched for me to take.

I grabbed his hand and he pulled me up, but then did something unexpected.

He twisted me so that my back was against his chest and his arms were wrapped tightly around me. Almost too tightly.

I gasped, and he quickly placed a hand over my mouth to keep me quiet.

It all happened so fast that by the time I had begun to fight his grip, he had dragged me through a room and next to a window, which he quickly opened.

I began to kick and squirm and scream into his hand; however, it didn't seem to do any good.

The guy holding me suddenly pulled a small bag out of his coat.

What's happening? Why is he doing this? What's he going to do to me?

I was beginning to panic.

I was then forced onto the floor where I was pinned down with one hand as his other dug through the bag. My mouth was pressed into the carper.

I couldn't see what he pulled out, but he yanked my head up by the chin and put some cloth in my mouth to gag me.

My feet were then tied together at the ankles tightly, and next my hands behind my back.

Once that was finished, he picked me back up and dragged me over to where the window was.

My head was forced out and I glanced down.

There were bushes directly below us, but no ladder. I had already guessed the part of the plan where he gets me out through the window.

Without warning, I was picked up and lowered out the window by a grip around my upper arms. This rather hurt because they were tied together behind my back, and groaned in pain, but it was muffled.

Then, the grip was gone and I had spun a bit, making me land awkwardly.

I landed on my back in the bush but then rolled out onto my chest in the grass, bumping my chin hard.

My ankle hurt. It wasn't broken, just sprained a bit. I knew that it was nothing extreme-I didn't feel the need to cry, anyway-but I also knew that it was going to hurt for a while. My chin would be bruised, too.

But right now I wasn't worried about either of those things.

Instead I was worried about the fact that I was gasping for air through me nose, but it seemed that none would come.

I heard a dull thud next to me and turned my head to see a pair of muddy army boots next to me.

When I could breathe alright, he yanked me back up and started shoving me back toward the fence that separated Mike's house from the neighbour's.

I was thrown over that, too, but this time I landed on my feet, only to fall to my knees and then my chest when my legs couldn't move.

The guy jumped the fence and pushed me on past the dark house; no one was home.

This time I fought against him. I tried to scream and to run back, or even to a side, anywhere to get away from him. Each time, he only made his grip on me tighter until I could feel his nails cutting into me and little drops of crimson blood rising to the surface of my now not-so-perfect skin.

He was leading me toward a sleek, black car. The windows were so tinted that I couldn't even see in.

I couldn't believe that I was actually being taken, kidnapped.

Tears began to pool in my eyes and they soon began to fall off of my cheeks, some of them mixing with the blood on my arms.

I pushed and pulled, I even fell to the ground on purpose once in attempt to make him let go, something that I would have never done if this weren't the situation, but nothing I did would stop him. It didn't help that both my arms and legs were tied up and that every time I fought his grip more blood dripped down my arm in fine lines.

I couldn't believe that no one was out here to see this-to help me. That none of the lights were on in any windows all up and down the street but Mike's, which was now the street behind us since we had jumped, or in my case, been tossed, over the fence.

But then again, who would be awake around two in the morning? Only crazy high school kids and the occasional kidnapper.

When he had finally gotten me to the car, I half expected to be thrown in the trunk.

Instead he opened the door to the backseat and I was roughly shoved in.

Because my I couldn't maneuver correctly, I was just able to jerk around. That itself hurt.

He shut the door after I was in, and I continued to struggle even as I heard the driver's door open and saw him get in through the tears that were still streaming down my face, making my make-up smear across my cheeks and some onto the car's seat.

His door shut and I heard the locks click, telling me that I was now trapped until I could free my hands. Of course I had already been stuck before, but this fact still made me feel worse and more hopeless.

I began to sob as I jerked and the car started and began to move swiftly and quickly.

After about five more minutes I gave up fighting and jerking; I just sobbed into the seat.

At the pace the car was moving at, we must already be far far away from Mike's house, where the party must still be continuing without me. Away from my parents house, for I could feel that we were traveling in the opposite direction.

How could I have not seen this? Not even one little vision that would have warned me?!

Then I remembered the vision from two days ago. The one that was filled with crimson.

I could feel his eyes on me as I cried, hard and stone-set; ice-cold, piercing into me and bringing about another round of hopeless sobs.

I cried.

**A/N: Please review!**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Thanks reviewers :D I recognized some old names and some new ones, and that made me happy!**

**I first wrote this chappie on paper cuz I didn't have a computer open and I really really wanted to write, so I wrote it out first for the first time ever.**

**Song: "Nobody's Home," Avril Lavigne, but there are also other songs mentioned in the chappie that you can listen to.**

When I came back into consciousness, the first thing that I comprehended was the faint smell of stale tobacco smoke.

My hands and feet were still tied and I was still gagged. My ankle was throbbing slightly, and my shoulders ached from the uncomfortable position, as did my neck. It was strained from lying on an uneven surface, but I wasn't awake enough to move yet.

It took me a moment to remember where I was and how I got here, but the loss of ability to move and feel my hands and feet as well as the sticky cheeks and stinging eyes soon reminded me.

Then I heard the low and hurried voice that was coming from the front seat of the car. I couldn't make out the words, but then again I wasn't sure if I wanted to.

Low music played in the background, and though it was low, it certainly wasn't soft. I recognized something that sounded rather like Within Temptation, but I couldn't be sure.

I suddenly felt the need to yawn, so I yawned.

The low voice of the man up front ceased when he heard me, and a phone could be heard as he clicked it shut.

I felt his cold eyes on me in the rear-view mirror, and I glanced up to check.

I met his glare.

He was glaring at me like I was an enemy by blood, like I was someone whom, even though we had never met before, he had to hate just because I was who I was.

Involuntarily, I shivered and broke eye contact. His stare was too intimidating to hold. I could feel the hair on the back of my neck stand up and a shiver run down my spine.

After another moment, the feeling was gone and I knew that his eyes weren't on me anymore.

I focused on my surroundings then. Only now did I notice that there was light outside, and I checked the glowing clock to see that it was six forty-seven in the morning. I hadn't been asleep for too long.

The surroundings that were outside of the heavily tinted window were flying by at great speed, so I could only guess that we were speeding, or else we wouldn't be moving so fast.

I attempted to sit up, to see where in the sky the sun was, but it hurt too much. It couldn't be too high or I would be able to see it above me out of the back window shield, so I guessed that it was at the horizon or below.

Hours passed and I wondered if he was ever going to stop the car for food, or at least something to drink. Then I noticed a cup of McDonald's coffee and knew that that was all that he would need to get through the day.

I, on the other hand, was hungry. I hadn't eaten since dinner the day before. All that I had had since then was a couple-or few-drinks.

That brought up that fact that I had to use the bathroom. Badly.

But he didn't stop. Not once as the sun rose and passed the center of the sky did he stop, even though my stomach grumbled more than once and he had heard it. Even though I felt like I was about to burst.

Instead, the music kept playing-he had turned it up earlier so that it was now playing quite loudly-and he continued to sip his seemingly endless foam cup of coffee.

Not once was a word spoken.

Sometime during the day I had kicked the heels from the night before off.

After so long, I really wanted to move since I hadn't since about two a.m. the night before and it was now around seven in the evening.

My shoulder was protesting the position it was in with all of my upper-body weight on it with pain, and my neck would be aching for days.

The car had been keeping the same fast pace the whole day, so when it began to slow I noticed it quickly.

Then the car turned and I guessed that we had just taken a highway exit.

More turns followed, and soon the sounds of other cars were lost. We decreased in speed until finally we came to a stop.

I wondered where and why we were stopped.

A door was heard opening and I saw the guy get out, closing the door with a slam behind him.

Then the door to the right of me, by my feet, opened and the guy stared in at me with cold, grey eyes.

Behind him the sky was grey, too, and the sun had sunk below the top of the trees that surrounded the edges of the field that we were in the middle of.

Something tugged at my ankles and I felt something slid off of my ankles. The tightness, cutting feeling disappeared as feeling began to flood painfully into my feet, which the man tugged out of the car..

Then he reached in and pulled me roughly into a sitting position by a shoulder.

He pulled a knife out of his coat pocket and I squealed into the gag.

This was it, the end. Finished. No more. My blood would run just like in the vision from days before.

Tears began to flow as he pulled me closer to him. I kicked at him and tried to pull back, out of his grip.

When I kicked him hard enough in the chest, the grip on my shoulder tightened to a point where it hurt enough to guess that there would be a large, hand-shaped bruise there by tomorrow.

Not that it would matter. By then he would have murdered me.

I hoped it was quick and painless.

He shook me roughly for the kick, and I began sobbing just as hard as the night before.

He put one of his boot-clad feet down over my two small, bare feet to hold them down.

His cold, hateful eyes glared down at me as the knife was brought to my throat. I sobbed, pleading with him with my eyes.

It didn't make a difference.

I felt a sting as the blade pierced where my jaw connected with my neck and waited for it all to end as the knife moved and dug deeper into my flesh..

But it didn't go any deeper.

Instead, I felt a slight tug and the clothe that was gagging me fell into my lap with a small drop of blood on it.

For a couple seconds I sat there in shock, doing nothing as he made me lean forward.

I vaguely felt a couple stings as he cut my wrists free. My hands were soon tingling as the blood started to rush back into them more quickly.

When I had gotten over the shock and fear of being killed, I slowly brought my hands out in front of me. Small cuts were on them from where the knife had dug in, but they didn't hurt as much as the cut on the edge of my face and neck.

I brought my shaking hands up to where it hurt and brought them back down to see that the fingertips were covered with blood.

I took the clothe that had been used for the gag and pressed it to the wound, moving my mouth around as I did so to try and rid the sore, stretched feeling that my cheeks and lips held.

This whole time the man stood there with his hard and hateful gaze, but I wasn't as aware as I should be.

If I had been thinking clearly then, I might have attempted to run, but even if I had, it would have been useless as he was standing right there, glaring at me, and would have been able to simply reach out and grab me.

Though running may have been a possibility, it didn't even cross my mind. I was too busy flexing and unflexing my hands and feet, cherishing the ability to move my extremely sore and aching shoulders as I held one hand against the cut.

Sometime during all of this, my sobbing had stopped, and by now I was only shaking slightly.

The man's hand was still gripping my shoulder, though it wasn't as hard of a grip as before.

His other hand had brought out a clean piece of clothe.

I watched, still slightly in shock, and leaned back, fighting his grip as the clothe was brought to my face.

He held my shoulder still, though, so the clothe was successfully brought to my skin. It began roughly wiping at my cheeks and eyes, trying to rid them of the smeared make-up.

When he was done, I glanced back up at his face by instinct, only to wish that I hadn't.

His face, once again, wore that loathing glare, that expression that was so full of hate.

I quickly glanced back down at my lap where one hand lay, the other still pressing against my neck, trying to concentrate on it and forget about that haunting face, so I was caught completely by surprise when he shoved me violently back into the backseat.

The door was quickly shut and soon we were back on the highway with the Metallica music playing up front.

Now that I was able to sit, I looked outside the heavily tinted windows to see the cars zooming quickly past..

As the car rolled, I wondered why he had untied me. I was glad, but still...

After a few minutes, I was thinking clearly again. I thought of escaping.

Jumping out of the car was the obvious option that popped into my head immediately. It would hurt, but it may also work.

By the time he had realized what I had done, I would hopefully be racing away from him. He would turn around quickly, but hopefully by then I would be away from the roads, running perpendicular to the highway.

I readied my feet and reached for the door handle, taking a deep breath.

That's when I noticed the flaw in my plan.

There was no door handle. Or lock. It was much like a police car.

Well, there goes that plan...

I sighed internally and rested my head against the cold window, gazing out into the darkening sky.

*****-_-_-_-_-*****

The car gave a sharp jerk as it turned and I fell across the backseat, causing me to wake up.

Then we came to a sudden stop and I fell partially out of the seat onto the floorboards.

The man up front got out and I looked out of the tinted windows to see the ceiling of a gas station. The sky was pitch-black.

I waited about ten minutes, still partway asleep.

I wondered what time it was, because I _really _needed to go.

When he returned, he threw a bag of something into passenger's seat and placed two large cups in the cup holders.

Then he came around and opened my door, yanking me out by my upper arm.

It surprised me, so I just stood for a second as he locked the car.

However, it wasn't very surprising when I glanced up only to look quickly away from him because of his glare.

I wondered why he was glaring and grabbing me by the arm in such a public place. Wouldn't people notice?

Then I glanced around only to find that this place wasn't very public at all.

There was one other car here, and its two owners seemed to be quite drunk.

As I was dragged toward the store's doors, one of the men wolf-whistled while the other one called things out, trying to persuade me to go over to where they were.

The thought of actually going crossed my mind for a moment, but then I realized that the grip on my arm would be hard to break.

We entered the store and the first thing I saw and heard was the snoring sales clerk at the checkout counter.

Then we walked past all of the merchandise and back to where the restrooms were. He stopped at the ladies' and knocked.

No answer came, so he opened the door and shoved me into the single-stall room.

When I was finished I felt relieved and somewhat lighter.

That was until I looked in the mirror.

Though he had cleaned my face, my eyes were still very dark. A bruise had formed on my chin from a day ago, and the cut from the knife earlier looked pretty deep now that I could see it.

My hair was a mess. The neat perfection of a day ago was gone, leaving behind a tangled mess. The clip that had held part of it together was sideways and about to come out, and part of it was sticking up at an odd spot.

My clothes didn't look so dandy, either. The cute outfit that I had chosen just for the party was ruined. The beaded light green halter had smudges of mascara and eyeliner on it, as well as large spots of blood here and there from my arms, which had dried blood caked on them. The extremely short denim shorts suddenly felt way too revealing, and I tried to tug them down some.

After wiping the blood off of my arms and face as well as most of the darkness around my eyes (some still remained) and re-doing the clip in my hair, a knock on the door came.

I wasn't finished, but I knew that I had to go out. I had been in here for at least fifteen minutes.

I hesitated.

This may be my chance to escape, or at least call for help. Maybe the guy at the check-out counter would wake up and call the police.

I opened the door, preparing to run, and he was right there.

My eyes strayed to the exit and he noticed.

Quickly he grabbed my arm and pulled me close as he began to drag me along.

I took a deep breath, preparing to scream for help, but he heard the intake of air.

"Do anything and I'll drive this knife straight through you," he murmured in a dangerous, cold voice, digging my arm into his side where I could feel the sure form of the knife he had used to cut my bindings earlier.

The sound of his low voice alone made me halt mid-breath. He hadn't spoken all since the party and when he had, it hadn't been in that tone. It made me shiver, and I was sure that he felt fear coming off of me in waves.

I let out the breath that I had been holding, somehow knowing that he meant what he said. He would kill me if I gave him a reason to.

We walked silently past the sleeping clerk and out of the store, heading straight for the car.

The drunk men were still there, and they started whistling again.

"Come over here and leave buddy boy behind."

"He probably ain't big enough fo' a pretty litta thing like youself."

I tried to ignore them, but when they began insulting him, I hoped he wouldn't get mad.

I glanced up, but his face was hard-set still.

We were yards from the car when my vision buzzed and then was taken over.

_My eyes were focused outside of a window and I heard a crunch beside me. My head turned to the side and a bag of pretzels, a mix of nuts, and an apple came into view. A hand-_

An annoyed grumble came from the present next to me, but I couldn't see anything as I was still engrossed in the vision.

Tugging followed, as well as a pain in my knees. I continued to be dragged as threats filled my ears, but there was nothing that I could do about it. I was still in the future.

_-reached back with a huge foam cup. My hand slowly extended forward before gripping the cup tightly and pulling it back, away from the other person's hand. My hand brought the cup up to my mouth and I took a sip. It was root beer._

_My hand placed the cup between my legs to hold it steady as I reached over for the bag of pretzels. They ripped it open noisily..._

I returned to the present right as a fist dug itself into my stomach, causing me to lean forward and gasp in pain.

The man shoved me into the backseat of the car as I was down, making me hit my head sharply on the metal.

My door slammed shut and he was back in the car before I could move.

My head seared in pain from the contact with the metal and my gut felt sore already. My knees were scuffed up with a bit of blood from falling I guessed, and more nail marks had appeared in my arm.

He whirled around to face me with an unsympathetic glare, his eyes dark and dangerous.

"What the _hell_ was that about? Were you trying to make a scene or something?" His words whipped out at me quickly, harshly.

Without my agreeing, water started to pool in my eyes. I couldn't help it, because it was only now that I was realizing that he didn't just intimidate me, he terrified me. His glare, and his heart, were like ice.

I gave a small whimper and my lip trembled. I leaned back into the seat, trying to disappear. This was the most that he had spoken, and I wasn't sure if I wanted him to continue.

"_Answer me_." His voice was so low and frightening that I brought my knees up to my chest.

"I-I don't know," I whispered, my voice cracking from lack of use and fear.

He glared at me for another four seconds before jerking back around and starting the car. "My Immortal" by Evanescence came on as we zoomed out of the gas station lot, gaining speed every second until we reached the highway.

After a minute I let out a little sob before I could stop myself. I knew that I wouldn't be so scared if it were anyone but him, but it was him, so the tears fell as we drove into the night.

I soon checked the clock. It was one forty-nine in the morning.

Glancing at the clock made me realize how exhausted I really was.

I curled up in the backseat, still holding my knees close to me, and shut my eyes.

It was only then that I realized that I had gone into the gas station without shoes on.

**A/N: Please review!**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Thanks reviewers!!!**

**Ok just in case anyone's still curious... this is an AH story as far as I know.**

**Song: "Twilight" by Vanessa Carlton.**

The next day began.

We continued to drive, the music playing but neither of us ever speaking a word. I hadn't made eye contact with him, either. After what had happened last night, I was terrified to meet his eyes.

I wondered what was happening back home. Would they be searching for me? Who would care? I knew that my sister would, but I wasn't sure about my parents anymore. We had been fighting a lot lately, and now it looked like I may never have a chance to make up with them...

I remembered what we had said before I left for the party two days ago. It was one of those rare times that my sister and I had been bickering.

_"Why do I get in trouble, when she doesn't? She did the same as I did!" I screamed at my mom._

_"You should know better, Mary Alice! You're sixteen!" she screamed back._

_"Yeah, and Cynthia's fourteen! Shouldn't she know better by now, too?!"_

_"Yes, but that doesn't change the fact that you are the oldest!"_

_I didn't have a reply for that. She had just confirmed what I had been fearing for a while now. That they treated me unfairly just because I was the oldest._

_My eyes filled with traitor tears and I just turned and walked out of the room, racing up the stairs and jumping onto the bed in my room._

_I hugged the pillow as I cried._

_I couldn't help it that I was the oldest! It wasn't my choice, that's just what had happened, how things had went!_

_I cried for another hour before getting ready for the party._

I looked out the window at the passing cars, just now noticing that my eyes stung. I wouldn't let them fill with tears. I had been crying too much lately.

The sun was high above the distant horizon.

Then I heard something being thrown into the seat next to me, and I turned around to see what it was.

It was from my vision.

The bag of pretzels was there, as well as the nut mix and an apple.

The man's hand reached back with a huge foam cup, and I muttered, "Root beer," before I could help it.

I took the cup and glanced up at the rear-view mirror to see if he heard my slip-up.

His returned glance told me that he had. Though it had the usual coldness to it, it had something more, like suspicion.

I took a sip like in my vision to confirm that yes, it was root beer.

I put the foam cup between my legs and reached for the bag of pretzels, tearing it open. It sounded way too loud for this car, but it didn't matter. I hadn't eaten in over a day, and I was hungry.

After about half an hour, everything was gone, and I had a full stomach.

Noon came and passed, followed by one and two in the afternoon.

As the clock neared three, he took an exit.

He drove a bit more and then came to a stop at a Target.

I wondered what we were doing here.

He got out and I watched him head into the store.

I waited about five minutes, and then decided to look around up front, to see if I could unlock the car from there.

I leaned forward and looked at the doors. There were door handles there, so I reached over and pulled on one.

Nothing happened.

I glanced around for the button to unlock the door, but there was none. He must have this car rigged up pretty fine.

Since escaping from the car now seemed impossible without the keys, I dug around a bit more.

There wasn't much up front. There was a pack of cigarettes, but I wasn't sure if they were actually his. He hadn't smoked anything while I was in the car.

There was also a few sticks of gum, as well as an empty can of soda. A couple blank sheets of paper and three pens-one looked broken.

There was just trash in the side pockets, and I didn't bother digging through that.

When I opened the glove compartment, though, I froze at the sight of a hand gun.

My heart gave a leap when the driver's door opened, my hand still by the glove compartment.

My head snapped around quickly, and I met his gaze. It was hard and cold, but it also had a flicker of surprise and something else, like worry but not.

He leaned in and I quickly jumped back into the backseat, my heart hammering in my chest.

He shut the glove compartment and set a few bags into the passenger's seat. I couldn't tell what was in them.

I felt his eyes on me as we drove out of the parking lot, but I just gazed out the window, trying to calm myself down after what I saw.

A gun. There was a gun in this car, feet from me. His gun.

Had he used it on anyone before? Had he actually killed anyone with it? Would he use it on me? Just as a threat, or would he actually pull the trigger? Something about him told me that he would if he needed to, just like with the knife in his jacket pocket.

I shivered.

The day continued and the gun was always in the back of my mind. It nagged at me.

At around eight p.m.,we got off of the highway again and came to a stop at a gas station.

He got out to pump the gas while I sat still.

The sun was past the horizon, but it was still slightly light out. I could feel the humidity inside the car.

There were other cars around, but not many. This place looked pretty run-down.

When he had finished with the gas, he grabbed a bag from the passenger's seat and went into the store.

I put my shoes on, just in case.

He came out five minutes later in new clothes, but he still wore the jacket with the knife in it.

He came back to the car and put the bag back. Then he got in and started the car.

All he did was pull around to the side of the gas station before getting out again and gathering a new bag.

Then he came and opened my door.

I didn't know what he wanted me to do, so I waited until he grabbed my arm and tugged me out.

Like the night before, he walked me into the store, but this time he tried to avoid getting near other people.

We walked back to where the restrooms were.

Then we had to wait for someone to come out.

When she did, I was shoved lightly into the bathroom and he handed me the bag.

I shut the door and locked it.

I took care of business and then looked in the bag.

Clothes were there, and a brush.

I pulled out a pair of jean shorts, a dark blue cami, and a plain pair of black flip flops.

I took my old, ruined clothes off and set them to the side.

I slipped the shorts up, but it was a bit of a struggle. They were a size too small, and really tight. That irritated me. But they weren't as short as my other shorts, so that was a relief.

The cami was a size too big, but that didn't affect how it fit me, really.

I slipped on the flip flops and grabbed the brush.

It took a while to yank through my hair, and even after I was done there were still many tangles, but it looked better.

My overall time was twenty minutes. A long time, but my hair took a lot of work.

I put all of the old things and the brush in the bag and opened the door.

He was right there again, and he took the bag as he grabbed my wrist.

We walked out the doors. It was very near dark now.

He led me around the side of the building, but then he stopped.

I jerked to a stop when he held my arm still. The grip grew much tighter, and I was sure I would have another bruise there.

I glanced up to see his eyes were focused on something, and I followed his gaze to where a van was parked next to his black car.

I was suddenly pulled closer by one arm and he set off toward the car at a quick pace, pulling something out of his jacket pocket at the same time. The knife.

I froze, but he kept walking, dragging me along and paying no attention to me.

We were close to the car, but then the doors of the van opened and two men hopped out.

The man holding me ran quickly at the car, but the other men came around at us.

He stopped and held me tightly..

We watched the two men. They stood about four feet away.

One of them pulled back his jacket and I gasped when I saw the gun he was hiding.

"Give us the girl and we won't kill you," one of the men said in a gruff voice.

The man holding me lifted me off of the ground so that I was right in front of him, covering his face. He held me around the stomach.

"You wouldn't want to kill her, though, would you?" he growled.

The men hesitated a moment, then one of them came at us.

I was grabbed by an arm and pulled at, almost coming out of my captor's grip.

The man holding me kicked out at the attacker, hitting him in the stomach as we stumbled backward.

The other man launched himself at us now, knocking us over.

I tumbled from his arms and across the pavement.

I was quickly grabbed by one of the attackers, and I cried out and struggled.

Meanwhile, the blonde-haired guy leaped up and yanked open the passenger's door in our car.

He came back out with the hand gun from earlier and I paused in my struggling.

The other unknown man pulled his gun out too, and the two of them faced each other.

I began fighting the grip again. I had managed to get to my feet by now and was breaking every grip that the guy got on my, ripping my arm from his hand and kicking at his shins. I was unaware of what was happening with the other two.

Then I heard the gunshot.

I looked up quickly, but before I could see anything, I was punched in the head and blackness overtook my senses.

*****-_-_-_-_-*****

I opened my eyes to a plain white ceiling. Where was I? This wasn't the car I had been kept in for the past couple days.

The side of my head throbbed and I remembered the fight.

The gunshot.

I shot up into a sitting position.

I looked around and saw the bland sight of a hotel room. The TV was off, and the curtains were shut. A lamp was on on the beside table, and the clock read eleven thirty at night.

I was in a bed, but not under the covers. I wore the same clothes as before I had been knocked out, but there was a drop of blood on the shorts.

Then I heard a voice raise slightly in the hallway that led to the bathroom.

"No, I-" Pause. "No, I shot him. He should be dead. I didn't have time to check. I just grabbed the girl and drove."

I took a sharp breath and the blonde-haired man poked his head around the wall. I was still with him. The other men hadn't gotten me.

"I'll have to call you back," he said. I heard protests on the other end of the conversation, but he snapped the phone shut.

He walked into the room and I was glad to see that he wasn't glaring at me. It was just that hard, stony look.

Then I noticed that I was in a bed and I had been unconscious for hours.

I glance at the bed and the at him.

"You didn't-?" I asked.

He took a moment to get what I meant but then grinned wickedly. I felt a sick feeling when he didn't give me a straight answer. What if he did? The feeling remained.

"You've been unconscious for about three hours."

Duh, I wanted to say.

"Are you tired?" he asked tonelessly.

I shook my head. I felt oddly awake now.

He didn't say anything else. He just sat down on the other bed and switched on the TV.

I was on the bed furthest from the door, and I knew that he did that as a precaution in case I tried to run.

I got up and looked out the window into the dark city. We were on the third or fourth floor up, so I couldn't climb out the window. I was stuck again.

I stood looking out the window for about half an hour, but then there was a knock on the door.

I spun around as the guy stood and walked to the door. He looked through the peep-hole first and then opened it.

I saw a pizza guy hand him a pizza and watched as he payed.

Then the pizza guy was gone and he set the pizza on the small table.

Only now did I realize that I should've called the pizza guy for help or something.

"Want some?"

I was rather surprised when he offered me some. I knew that I was hungry, so I accepted.

I went and sat by the table in the chair as he took a piece over and sat on the bed.

I took a piece of the cheese pizza and took a bite.

It wasn't the best, but it would be good enough.

After three pieces, I was full.

At around one in the morning, I was back to staring out the window.

Then I heard something move behind me and I turned to see the guy holding out another one of those bags.

I took it and looked at him, puzzled.

He glared back.

"Shower," he said.

I nodded and started walking.

"Leave the door unlocked. I won't come in, but just in case..." His voice trailed off.

Yeah, he better not come in.

I considered locking it just to irritate him, but then my mind wandered to what he might do if I did.

I didn't lock the door.

I put my dirty clothes in a heap under the counter and got in.

The hot water felt great. It stung a bit on my cuts at first, especially the one on my neck, but it was bearable.

It took forever to untangle my hair completely, as well as a lot of conditioner, but I got it to be smooth after about four rinses.

Sometime during my shower I broke down. It was a very sudden emotion that came over me and it was irresistible. The tears came and small sobs broke through my lips. I was glad that water was pouring down on my face. This way I didn't have to feel the tears running down my cheeks. It was like in the rain. When it rained, I was glad that I didn't have to cry alone.

The melt down ended after some time, and I let the hot water run over my eyes, taking away some of the stinging that the tears had brought.

When I felt better, I stepped out of the shower, hugging the soft towel to my wet body.

I stared in the mirror. Something was different.

Of course, my long black hair was now tangle-free and sleek unlike before, and the darkness around my eyes was gone, but something else. I was different.

I remember how I acted a couple of days ago to Yorkie. Was it really just days? It seemed like much longer.

I had been extremely rude to Yorkie-Eric. I only thought of my reputation as I turned away from him and went to join my group. It sounded so exclusive, and really it was. Only those with money, looks, and talent were in my group. I suddenly wanted to pull myself out and away from that group and never look back at it again.

Now, I would give almost anything to get away from this man who had took me and ruined me. Even Eric would be great company, but I probably wasn't going to make it out of this alive.

I felt something in my heart pull as I realized this.

It was very unlikely at this time that I would ever see my friends and family again. Poor Cynthia.

I tried to stray from those thoughts. I dried off and brushed my hair out.

Then I picked up the bag he had given me and looked in, only to begin to feel puzzled.

In the bag were men's clothes.

I didn't know what to do. I would either have to walk out in a towel to get my clothes or ask him to get them for me.

Though I didn't want to have any connection with him, I knew my preferred choice.

I wrapped the towel around me, just in case, and picked the bag back up.

I cracked open the door and peered out. I couldn't see him behind the wall.

"Umm...?" I didn't know what to say. What should I call him?

"Umm... hello?" No answer. "Hello?" Still nothing.

Taking a deep breath, I held the towel close to me and stepped out.

I peered around the wall first to see if he was here, but both beds were empty.

I walked over to where the bags were in a corner and began to dig through them, searching for one that held things that might actually belong to me.

Then a door opened and I shot up, losing the grip on the towel for just a second.

I hastily rewrapped it around me as he walked in, staring at me with his icy gaze, but this time the expression on his face was one of surprise and confusion.

I was at loss for words, but stuttered, "I... This bag doesn't... I was looking-"

He snatched the bag out of my hands and looked inside before realization spread across his face.

I could feel my cheeks turning pink. All that I wanted to do was race back into the bathroom and lock the door.

He set the bag down and looked in each bag as I had been doing.

When he stood back up he handed me a different bag and I glanced in it just to be sure this time.

When what I saw looked like women's clothing, I walked quickly back to the bathroom and shut the door behind me a bit too hastily; it slammed.

Letting out a breath, I took the clothes out of the bag only to find another awkward moment.

He had picked out the clothes, right? So did that mean that he had picked out the panties and bra with them?

My cheeks turned pink again.

I knew that I would have to put them on eventually, so I just got it over with. They both fit alright, though the bra seemed a bit big around. I put it on the tightest clip. At least he hadn't actually known my sizes. That would have been... I shuddered.

I dug through the rest of the bag to find that it had different options. I pulled out the blue pj shorts and a thin green tank.

Those both fit alright.

I left the dirty clothes under the counter, unsure of what to do with them, as well as the towel that I had used.

Then I prepared myself to go back out in the room where he was, after what had happened.

I walked out and he got out of bed before I could get close, going over and grabbing a bag that had not been there before I showered.

He must have gone out to the store across the street.

Then he walked toward me and dragged me back into the bathroom, setting the bag down on the counter.

He put me right in front of the sink and held me there.

I was confused.

A towel was grabbed and he lifted my long hair up, wrapping the towel around my shoulders under it.

Then he pulled out scissors from the bag and I got it.

"No!" I shrieked, trying to get away from him.

He held me still.

"Shut up."

Before I could do anything else, a long lock of hair was cut and lying on the floor by my feet.

I whimpered as he continued and shut my eyes tight.

I waited, hearing the snapping of the scissors as they cut my hair and feeling the hair as it fell and brushed against my skin.

He circled around me, cutting from each angle but from the front, continuing to hold me down by a shoulder.

Then a comb was brushed through it, and I heard things being put back away into the bag.

I heard his steps as he left me alone in the bathroom, dreading when I opened my eyes.

I opened them.

My hair was now rather short and it stuck out at odd angles, not close to a boy-cut and not in spikes, but it was spiky and it was pretty short. It came away from my head and stopped above my chin, creating a kind of halo, but it didn't stick out at top, just around the sides. I still didn't have bangs, which I was grateful for.

I stared at the locks on the floor, whimpering at my once beautiful hair.

Then something hit me, the same as before.

'My once beautiful hair.' How conceited and vain that sounded. I hated it. I hated that the thought had ever crossed my mind.

I scooped all of the fallen hair up off of the tiles and threw them angrily into the wastebasket.

Then I looked in the mirror, suddenly feeling pride at my new hair. Not a vain pride, but a pride brought by satisfaction. The new hair would be the start to the new me.

I grabbed the comb, which he had left, and ran it gently through my hair.

Once happy enough with it, I looked into the mirror and smiled slightly.

A new beginning that may lead to my end.

**A/N: Please review! How's the story so far? What d'you think of Alice's personality? Who's after Alice? And the awkward bits :P**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Ok thx reviewers!!! i luv to here wat u guys have to say!!!**

**Song: "I Hate Everything About You" by Three Days Grace. Really applies to one part**

"We're leaving now."

I opened my eyes groggily to a cold glare and him getting things together.

We had been here at the hotel for a day, this was the second night, and those were the first words that he had spoken since he told me to shut up when trying to cut my hair. The rest had been cold, blood-chilling glaring whenever eye contact was made.

When I didn't move, he grabbed me by the arm rather roughly and pulled me up.

My feet weren't out before my head so I landed on my hands and knees. He just yanked me up by the hair.

He went back to the bags and threw me the flip flops and a brush.

I slipped them on and grabbed the brush, yanking it at my hair as we left the room.

He hurried me down the hallways and we took the stairs instead of the elevator.

When we arrived at the lobby, I expected him to check out but he didn't. He must've already done that while I was asleep.

We strode out the door and through the parking lot.

I was shoved into the backseat of the shiny black car and the bags into the passenger's seat.

He got in and started the car; we were out in less than a minute.

The glowing clock told me that it was near four in the morning.

I didn't ask why we had rushed out. Anything to avoid speaking to him while he was in this state.

Instead I curled up on the seat and fell back to sleep quickly.

******-_-_-_-_-*****

When I woke up it was to raised voices, one on the phone and one from him.

"Yes, I know that better than you! I know what I must do if something goes wrong, unlike you-"

Yells from the other end of the call.

"Which is against the rules! You should of just killed her; instead you decided to get all of us into trouble-"

"That is not an excuse for what you did! If it comes to it, I know what I will do. I'm loyal. A simple girl will not change that-"

I tried not to move; I knew that he was talking about me with someone else. His voice got louder with every word.

"How did we even get onto this topic, anyway? It's not like I give a damn what happens to-"

He cut off even though no one was speaking on the other end and glanced up at the rear-view mirror. I quickly shut my eyes and pretended to sleep. He fell for my act.

When he spoke again, his voice was lowered.

"I will do what I must, even if it means getting rid of her. It's better for neither of us to have the information than for them to. I'll do whatever it takes."

The phone snapped shut.

I lay there, taking in what he had said. Who was he talking to? And what about breaking rules, with who? Who broke the rules?

I didn't want to think about the rest of what he had said, but I couldn't help it.

He would kill me if it came to it. That was all that there was to it.

Tears began to form beneath my eyelids and I felt some leak out, rolling down my face and into my hair.

The feeling that eyes were on me came and I tried to keep my breathing steady, praying that the tear streaks were unnoticeable on my skin.

Time passed. After a while I grew restless, so I opened my eyes and sat up.

He glanced back but then returned his eyes to the road.

It was nine fifty-one in the morning, but it felt much later than that. I wondered how long I had been awake with my eyes shut.

As the day progressed, I began to realize just how boring and depressing sitting in a car with only your thoughts and your kidnapper to keep you company. I didn't like either of them.

All that I had to think about was the future, which normally wouldn't be unusual, but visions hadn't been coming as much lately.

And the future was depressing.

I would likely die, probably by the hands of the man in front of me. Would I be shot? Choked? Stabbed? Loads of horrid thoughts crossed my mind, each worse than the last.

In the end it came down to the fact that life sucked at this point. What was the point in living if this was all that would happen? I didn't seemed to have anything to look forward to-anything to keep me struggling to live, anyway. It was all worthless. I should just stop trying now.

I swam in these morbid thoughts as the car sped down the road. I watched the passing cars and their drivers. Each driver had a life that I did not know of, as well as a life to look forward to, unlike me. Each one was different.

After a while of observing, however, I noticed a trend. People on their phones talking about matters that were most likely care-free and useless, people drinking their cups of coffee with shopping bags in the passenger seat. They would all be returning home most likely. They were all still worried about having the right clothes to wear the next day.

Like I used to be.

Now there was more.

I had to worry and wonder about how much longer I had to live. What if the man upfront, still nameless, got a phone call that gave him reason to turn around and shoot me?

The treacherous tears came again and rolled down my cheeks.

I told myself not to cry. It wasn't worth the tears. It was inevitable, and I shouldn't waste my tears over it. His actions weren't a reason to cry.

Then I realized just how much I hated him. I hated him so much. The way he glared at me for no apparent reason, the way he was so cold and distant toward me, the way he spoke to me. I hated him. He stole me away from my sister. He'd doomed me by doing so. If I was going to die anyway, why not irritate him before. I hated him.

I twisted a piece of my short hair around my finger as I gazed out the window.

*****-_-_-_-_-*****

We stopped at eight that evening for gas and a bathroom break.

I was led into the gas station as usual, still in my pjs from the night before. It didn't really matter.

When we entered the store, though, I tripped on purpose. I still remembered what I had promised myself earlier that day.

With a grumble, he helped me up, unable to do anything that might cause suspicion among the other people in the store.

Then I 'accidently' stuck my foot out in front of his and he stumbled. He didn't fall to the ground, but he pulled on me for balance.

Then he jerked to a stop in the middle of an aisle.

"Do it again and I'm going to slap you," he threatened while glaring at me icily. The glare almost made me lose my resolve. It did for a moment, but then I snickered internally. He wouldn't dare do anything in front of others..

He began walking again, tugging roughly on my arm for me to follow.

I finished up quickly in the restroom this time, and when I stepped out he wasn't there. I glanced around the store to see that he was up front, paying for food and drink.

I debated on whether to stay here but then decided against it.

I took a deep breath and walked through the aisles toward the door.

When I walked past him, I tensed, but nothing happened.

He didn't look up until I opened the door and a 'ding' rang softly.

Then he turned around and I felt his gaze on my back as I picked up speed.

I threw it all to the wind and began to run, and wondered why I couldn't hear his footsteps chasing after me. Then I realized that it might look suspicious for him to chase after a random person.

I kept running out of the lot and down the side walk as his car was heard starting.

It was then that I decided I was going to get away.

I cut through a lawn and headed down a neighborhood.

It seems that cutting through lawns was a good idea, because after about seven minutes I couldn't see or hear his car.

I raced past little kids that were playing in their yards, panting. The flip flops weren't very helpful. I ended up kicking them off and running barefoot.

Another five minutes passed and I was growing dizzy. I wasn't used to running at all, especially at this pace for so long.

So I went into a yard that was hidden partially behind trees. It was a small house, and the lights were all off..

I hid behind it. After less than five minutes I heard the familiar sound of his car racing by and saw it briefly.

By now the sun was sinking below the horizon, and only now did it cross my mind that I had no idea what I was going to do tonight. Where would I stay? Where would I go next?

I sighed. My head suddenly hurt.

I had to move, at least, so I went back to the side walk and began walking.

And walking.

And walking.

It must've been at least nine fifteen.

The sun had set and there was a faint glow in the sky where downtown must be in one direction. I had no idea where I was going, but I was headed toward the light, hoping that it would get me somewhere. I had been getting very puzzled looks by passing cars, and each time I looked down at my bare feet.

Then a vision took over my head.

_Arms were wrapped around me, suffocating me. We were backing up quickly and I could sense others moving around us._

_Another figure was jumping out of a car a few yards away. It was the blonde man that I had lost earlier._

_He pulled out a gun and aimed._

_The sound of the shot echoed in my head and I felt something graze my arm._

_The others that were around us each pulled out a gun, too, and blondie ducked behind his car as he shot._

_He wasn't aiming for the men around us, only us._

_The bullets pelted the car that I was being dragged toward but none hit me._

_I watched the blonde man as he fired at us. Each time I watched as the aim was only inches off, heard the bullet whiz past me. Three more times the bullets grazed me, twice my arm and once just through the tips of my hair._

_Then the man holding me tripped and I fell with him. I landed on my hands and knees._

_I looked up to see the blonde man point the gun right at my head, taking quick but careful aim as I knelt there, shocked._

_I heard the shot echo in my head._

I returned to the present to find myself kneeling on the sidewalk. I knew that I had just seen my own death, but when would it come?

I sat there for some time, pondering what I had just seen, feeling more depressed than ever.

Then I got up slowly, dreading the night that may very well be my last.

**A/N: wat d'you people think of how things r going so far? too fast, too slow, just right??? and just wondering but does anyone want the guy-who-took-alice's POV? plz let me kno!!!**

**~chocolate coffee**


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